Breakfast at an end, the boys lost no time in repacking their belongings, and Uncle Barney assisted them in fastening the load to the bobsled.
"But I'm going to carry my shotgun this time," announced Fred. "Then, if any game appears, I'll be ready for it."
"You can all carry your guns if you want to," said the owner of the island. "I'll leave my weapon strapped to the sled, so that if any game appears you boys can do the shooting."
The little cabin was closed up, and then the party made its way down over the rough rocks and between the trees to the lake shore. It was no easy matter to bring the bobsled along, and once Fred slipped on one of the smooth rocks and pitched headlong into a snowbank.
"Hi you! stop your fooling!" cried Andy, and then, in great glee, he picked up a chunk of snow and hurled it at Jack.
"Let up!" cried the oldest Rover boy. "This is no time for jokes!" and then, as Andy came at him with another chunk of snow, he jumped at his cousin, put out his foot, and made the fun-loving youth measure his length in a drift.
"Wow! but that snow is cold!" cried Andy, who had gotten some down the sleeves of his sweater. "Stop! Don't bury me! I'll be good!" And then he scrambled to his feet once more, while Fred did the same. Then the whole party proceeded on its way.
Reaching the lake, they lost no time in putting on their skates, and then, with Uncle Barney leading the way, the four Rovers followed, dragging the loaded bobsled behind them.
On all sides could be seen snowdrifts and ridges of snow piled in curiously fantastic shapes. But the keen wind of the afternoon and night had cleared many long reaches of the ice, and over these reaches Uncle Barney picked his way, gradually working closer and closer to the upper end of Snowshoe Island.
"We'll turn in here," he announced presently, when they came to where there was something of a cove. "There seems to be quite a cleared space. It won't be very long now before we reach the upper end."